


Why We Fight

by fiones



Category: Kyou Kara Maou!
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-17
Updated: 2013-01-17
Packaged: 2017-11-25 20:09:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/642518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fiones/pseuds/fiones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Günter training young Conrart.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Why We Fight

Günter von Kleist had a great many talents and, in his opinion, taking care of children was not one of them. Everyone around him seemed to disagree as he consistently was made to baby-sit, first his younger siblings, and now that he’d moved into Blood Pledge Castle, the three sons of the demon queen had become his charges. And unfortunately for Günter, there was really no way out of it. The three boys had latched onto him, each in their own way, and Günter had barely had a moment to himself in nearly four months. It had been the same way with his younger brother and sisters. It made no sense to Günter, it wasn’t as though he was a particularly fun person to be around, and yet he seemed to be a kid magnet. It was very confusing and somewhat alarming, especially when he went into his chambers for some time alone to read or just sit and stare at the ceiling and he’d find one of the three boys waiting for him there.  
  
Gwendal had been the one from the very beginning to pester Günter to train him in the art of swordplay, ever since their first meeting in which Gwendal had boldly challenged Günter to a duel and had lost in under sixty seconds. Conrart had been content to just follow Günter around and observe, asking questions every now and then, but he was generally the quiet one. Wolfram was the youngest and had only recently even learned how to speak and now that he had started, Günter couldn’t get the kid to shut up. He followed Günter everywhere; alternatively holding on to his little big brother’s hand and clutching onto Günter’s pant leg (and often having to run in order to keep up with Günter’s long strides.) He would question anything and everything. He wanted to be taught how to fight, he wanted to be pampered, and he didn’t want to be more than five meters away from Günter for any long length of time. Günter suspected the boy was still a bit frightened by his memories of the week Günter and the princes spent lost in the forest the first month Günter had arrived at the castle and Wolfram probably figured he was safest when he was close to Günter. But Günter couldn’t be sure.  
  
Günter has hiding in a bush outside the castle, contemplating this thought, when he heard Conrart’s gentle voice calling his name. He flinched and sunk lower into the bush. It wasn’t that he disliked Conrart, quite the opposite, he was quite fond of the kids (though he’d always deny it) but ten minutes. He just wanted ten minutes to himself! That wasn’t too much to ask, was it?  
  
Apparently it was, as a moment later there was a rustling above him and Günter looked up to see Conrart looking curiously down at him, having pushed the leaves and small branches back to find him. “Günter?”  
  
Damnit. Foiled again.  
  
Günter smiled gently up at Conrart, trying his best to keep the twitch in his eye under control, and stood, brushing the dirt and leaves off of his clothes. “Yes, Conrart?”  
  
“What are you doing down there?” Conrart asked, raising an eyebrow at him.  
  
“Ah. I dropped something. I found it now, though. Nothing to worry about. Did you want something, Conrart?”  
  
Conrart nodded, his warm hazel eyes narrowing and Günter could see a strange determination there that he’d never seen in the boy before. “Lord von Bielefeld’s coming,” he said, coldly, and Günter’s eyes widened.  
  
“Oh,” was all he could manage to say. He’d never met the man, personally, but he knew Gwendal and Conrart’s opinion of him and had heard enough stories that he was pretty confident that Gwendal and Conrart’s feelings were justified. “When?”  
  
“In two weeks.”  
  
“I see. Does Wolfram know?”  
  
“Not yet. Mother said she’ll tell him later.”  
  
“I see.” Günter sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “And how do you feel about this?”  
  
Conrart remained quiet and kicked aimlessly at the dirt. “Günter? I’ve been thinking… I know I’m not supposed to start for another year or so but I want… to start my training.”  
  
Günter’s eyebrows rose. “You’re training has begun, Conrart.”  
  
“Learning the proper stances and wielding only a wooden sword isn’t real training. I want to begin working with an actual sword, like Gwendal.”  
  
“Gwendal’s older than you, Conrart,” Günter said gently, working to disentangle himself from the bush and stepping out next to Conrart. “You’re still too young.”  
  
“I’ve never said this to you before, and I’ll probably never say it again, but I think you’re wrong, Günter,” Conrart said, staring defiantly up at the young-adult. “My father has said my stance is much better now and… and… I need to learn how to fight. We’ve already been attacked and if you hadn’t been there, Günter… we’d be dead now. I couldn’t do anything, neither could Gwendal… we were so useless…” Günter watched in fascination as the boy’s look slowly turned from defiance to pleading. “Please, Günter. I don’t want to be that helpless again.”  
  
There was a pause, during which Günter seemed to size Conrart up and the young boy stood as straight and proud as he could, not backing down under the older man’s gaze. “I’m not… saying yes, yet, Conrart, but answer me this one question.”  
  
Conrart blinked. “Alright.”  
  
“Why is it that you fight?”  
  
Conrart blinked again. “What?”  
  
“Why is it that you fight, Conrart? What motivatesy you, what’s your purpose, your reason for wielding a blade and charging into battle? What is it you are fighting for?”  
  
Conrart didn’t even have to pause to think before he answered. “Wolfram.”  
  
It was Günter’s turn to blink before he smiled gently down at him. “Is that so?”  
  
Conrart nodded, determinedly. “Always.”  
  
Another pause. “If that’s truly how you feel then I can’t very well deny your request,” Günter said with a sigh. “You’re still too small to wield a proper sword. I’ll look and ask around, and try to locate a shorter sword that would be better for you so it may be at least two weeks before we properly begin.”  
  
“That’s fine,” Conrart said and there was a brightness in his eyes that Günter rarely saw there, a twinkle of joy. “I can be patient. Just… thank you, Günter!”  
  
“You do know, though, that if your mother protests there isn’t anything I can do about it.”  
  
“I know. I’ll talk to her,” Conrart said, grinning widely.  
  
“Alright. Is that all you wished to speak to me about?”  
  
Conrart nodded in response and Günter internally sighed in relief. He began to slink away, still grinning at Conrart. “In that case, I shall have to bid you good day! I’m going to retire to my chambers until supper. Today _is_ my day off, after all…”  
  
Günter’s hopes and dreams of a few minutes to himself were instantly shattered by Gwendal, in his most commanding (but still distinctly unthreatening, at least in Günter’s view) voice shouting from right behind him, “Günter! You’re not busy? Excellent, we can get some extra training in today. Let’s go!”  
  
Damnit! Foiled twice.  
________________________________________  
Günter met Conrart two weeks later in the courtyard, with a short sword he’d located that was just right for someone Conrart’s size. He’d instructed Conrart to assume the proper stance and go through some normal routine exercises to get used to the weight of the new blade.  
  
Conrart was far more patient and calm than Gwendal, a fact that Günter repeatedly thanked Shinou for. Gwendal was a very pushy and frustrating student, hardly ever willing to listen to Günter and always thinking he knew best, and he seemed to enjoy being beaten as he continuously challenged Günter to duels. Conrart listened to Günter’s instructions and suggestions and he definitely had a special talent. Günter picked up on that quickly, despite the fact that the first time they dueled, Günter disarmed Conrart in less time than it took for him to do the same to Gwendal. He had high hopes for the second prince.  
  
“Did you ever ask Gwendal that question?” Conrart asked him during one of their training sessions and Günter looked at him in confusion.  
  
“Which question?”  
  
“Did you ask Gwendal what he was fighting for?”  
  
Günter smiled in understanding and nodded. “Indeed I did. It was during the week we were in the woods.” Conrart noticeably stiffened at the mention of that time.  
  
“And what did he say?”  
  
“He didn’t say anything. He just spent the rest of the night sitting much closer to you and Wolfram than before.”  
________________________________________  
  
Wolfram had been the sloppiest of Günter’s three main pupils, at least, during the time that Günter taught him. He was aggressive and impatient and above all else, he didn’t know what he was fighting for. Where Conrart and Gwendal both knew their reason from a young age, Wolfram didn’t find his until he was in his 80’s, and then Conrart and Günter could both see how he improved, how he focused and fought with purpose, and they never had to question what that reason was.   
________________________________________  
  
“I wonder…” Günter said to Conrart, once, as they watched out the window in Günter’s office as Wolfram and Yuuri practiced. “What is the reason you fight, Conrart?”  
  
“You already know the answer to that.”  
  
A pause. “Your feelings haven’t changed.”  
  
“Not once.”  
  
Günter smiled. “I thought so.”  
  
Conrart returned the smile, his warm eyes following the movements of his brother and his godson down below. “Although,” he said after awhile, “now I have two things I fight for.”  
  
“And there’s nothing wrong with that,” Günter replied, nodding in understanding.  
  
“Günter?”  
  
“Hmm?”  
  
“Why is it that you fight?”  
  
Günter turned to look at Conrart, startled, and found Conrart looking back at him intently. “Excuse me?”  
  
“You heard me,” Conrart said and Günter could see that same determination in the man’s eyes that he saw once in a young boy desperate to learn how to protect his family.  
  
Damnit. Three times foiled.  
  
Günter looked away from Conrart and turned his gaze upwards towards the sky. “Huh. Good question,” he said, quietly and Conrart’s eyes narrowed at him. “I suppose my reason has changed over time… now I believe my reason… I fight for… redemption. I suppose.”  
  
“And before?”  
  
“That’s a secret,” Günter said with a small chuckle. “But I can say… that you three brothers… all had far better reasons than I.”  
  
“You taught us to fight for love. Did you?”  
  
Günter remained silent and continued to stare out the window. “No,” he said thoughtfully after a bit.  
  
“I see,” Conrart said, quietly, not looking at Günter.  
  
Günter smiled towards the sky and laughed.  
  
“Like I said. You three had far better reasons than I ever did.”   
  
_And in that sense_ , Günter thought to himself, _you all surpassed me. Right from the very beginning._


End file.
